The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil (38 page)

I couldn’t help it. I just had to have the last word. “Well, it worked out perfectly for you, didn’t it?”

Now her eyes were on me. “Oh, it did, Evia. It worked out better than you could ever imagine.” She took a deep breath that sounded like a hiss, licked her lips, and then did what she did best—she smiled.

I shook my head. Why hadn’t I just kept my mouth shut?

Chapter 62

S
ILENCE.
T
HE QUIET THAT WAS BETWEEN
us was like our fourth child. It was always there, and over the past weeks, we’d nurtured silence, allowed it to live, allowed it to grow.

Shay-Shaunté was the cause, and now it was all over. There was no need to let silence stay and separate us any longer; the deal, the dance, the devil … it was done.

Yes, we’d walked away with so much less than we’d planned, but the thing was, we’d still received a bit over a million dollars … no one could hate on that, right? And we still had everything that was important—Adam and I had each other and our children. Ruby was safe for months, most of our bills were paid in advance … and we owned our home. There was no way anyone could look at this and say that this had ended totally badly.

Still, when Adam pulled the car into our garage, shut off the engine, then sat, his eyes straight ahead, I knew I had to say it; I had to help him get to my way of thinking.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Not looking at me, he nodded but didn’t say a word. He kept his eyes straight ahead, staring at the garage shelves. I needed more from him. I needed to hear his voice, needed to know what he was thinking.

So I explained, “I read this wrong, Adam. I’d known Shay-Shaunté for six years, and I just knew she would never go public with this.”

“I know Shay-Shaunté, too,” he said.

Well, I’d wanted to hear his voice, and now he’d spoken. I wondered, though, if he’d meant to hurt me with his words, because he had. The fifty hours he’d spent with her, talking to her, holding her, were far deeper than my six years. Or maybe it was just their connection … that man and woman thing that I would’ve never been able to compete with.

Would Adam always be connected to her?

I shook my head. I needed to leave the paranoia, the jealousy behind. There’d been no connection between them today.

Through my thoughts, Adam said, “I know her and I knew she would sue us. I tried to tell you that.”

“I know you did, and I’m sorry,” I apologized again, hoping that would make a difference.

Again, he nodded. Said nothing. Just stared straight ahead.

In the silence, I didn’t feel the anger toward me that Adam had carried these last weeks. Now he was holding on to something different—disgust, blame, judgment … I wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, I couldn’t let us fall back to the way we’d been. I couldn’t let Shay-Shaunté and the silence defeat us.

“The thing is, baby, this is over,” I said.

“Yes, it is.”

“And now we can put it behind us knowing that we did get something out of this.”

Slowly, he turned his head until his eyes were straight on
mine. The question was as much in his face as in his words. “What did we get?”

“Our house,” I said because he needed to see that obvious piece of good news. “We didn’t walk away empty-handed; we have this house.”

For a moment, he gave me nothing more than a blank stare and I swore I heard the sound of crickets. Then he shook his head, opened his door, and jumped out of the SUV.

Quickly, I followed. “Adam, didn’t you hear what I said?”

He stopped so suddenly that I bumped right into him. “I heard you—the question really is, did you hear yourself?”

Now I was the one with the blank stare.

He said, “You think the fact that I gave up all that I believed in, all that I promised God, all that I promised you, my integrity, who I wanted to be as a man—you think all of that was worth a house?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

“Come on, Evia. Would we do this all again—for this house?”

He waited, but I couldn’t think of a single word to say. So slowly, he turned and dragged himself into the house—the prize we’d won for Adam surrendering everything that he’d believed in.

Chapter 63

I
T WAS OVER.

But it was not.

We were back to the way we were.

Not as the old Langstons. We were nowhere near the caring, trusting, loving people that we used to be. We were the new Langstons—Adam and me and Shay-Shaunté. Because even though the deal was done, she was still very much a part of our lives.

The day after we agreed on the settlement, Adam went to the bank and withdrew the money to return to Shay-Shaunté. I wanted to go with him, but when I followed him to the car, he turned around, as if surprised to see me.

“No, stay here. I need to do this alone,” he said.

I had no idea what that was about. Why would he want to go to the bank by himself … unless he planned to leave the bank and take the check to Shay-Shaunté personally. Unless he planned to use this as an opportunity to see her.

I asked him, “Why can’t I go with you?”

He heard my wariness—I know he did, because his eyes narrowed and he pressed his lips together. The old Adam would have soothed my suspicions, kidded with me and told me I was imagining things.

But this new man didn’t seem to care. He just said, “I’ll be back,” jumped into the SUV, and drove away.

All I could do was wait for him to return. I counted the minutes as I paced in our bedroom. The minutes turned into one hour. I called Adam’s cell. It rang four times, then went to his voice mail.

Then, two hours. I called again. Four rings. Voice mail.

Three hours and I moved my walking marathon into the living room. This time when I called Adam’s cell, it went straight to voice mail.

I was still standing, still walking when Adam came home, six hours after he’d left. In that time, so many images had jogged through my mind; I knew exactly what he’d done.

“Where’ve you been?” I screamed, meeting him at the door.

He looked at me as if I was pathetic. “I went to the office,” he said simply. “Remember? I have a job.”

I ignored his sarcasm. “I thought you weren’t starting until tomorrow.”

“I decided to go by today to pick up a few things—is that all right with you?”

I wanted to believe him, tried to believe him … but I couldn’t.

The days passed and my suspicions grew, mostly because of the silence that stayed between us … and because Shay-Shaunté had told me that she wanted my husband.

Every moment that Adam was out of the house, I wondered where he was, even though I knew he was at work. I wondered why he came home so late, even though this was his first week
on his new job and he was planting the seeds to becoming one of the top executives. I wondered why he decided to go into the office that first weekend, even though that was so Adam Langston, just trying to get ahead of the game.

But even though one side of my brain gently assured me that Adam’s behavior was perfectly normal, the other side screamed, Shay-Shaunté.

I’d told Adam that we should put that deal behind us, but I was the one having trouble with that, though I had a very good reason. It had been more than a month since Adam had returned home and we had yet to unite as husband and wife—and it wasn’t because of me.

I told Adam, “Have you noticed, but we haven’t made love this year! You haven’t touched me since …”

His answer was always the same. “I’m just tired, Evia. We’ve been through a lot and there’s a lot on my mind.”

Oh … kay. When did that ever stop a man?

So, I had to ask myself, if Adam wasn’t with me, who was he with? It had to be someone—no man could go so long without sex.

I couldn’t keep my thoughts to myself. I had to ask him, “Is it Shay-Shaunté? Is she the reason you can’t be with me?”

He would shake his head and say, “Why do you keep asking me about her?” Then he would walk away.

It was the same conversation over and over.

I could’ve handled all of this much better if Adam had been angry—because I knew that no one could stay angry forever. But Adam wasn’t angry. What Adam carried now was regret. And regret was a simmering emotion that could keep you in a state of sorrow forever.

It didn’t help that I saw blame in Adam’s eyes every time he glanced at me and I felt despair in his arms whenever he hugged me.

There was a saving grace, though—our children. The upcoming party had them too excited to notice the strain in their home, and it kept Adam and me busy enough to push aside my growing distrust.

The party plans were all set—for the dinner, with all the adults, and then the after-party for just the teenagers.

While Adam worked at his new job, I put the finishing touches on the celebration, doing all that I could to lower expenses, now that Shay-Shaunté had taken our last million away. We’d already committed to the restaurant, and though the cost of the party frightened me, this was one place where Adam took the time to reassure me; he kept telling me that we’d be fine.

Still, I worked to lower every part of the budget—I changed the dinner menu from steak and lobster to chicken and rice, I told the live band that our plans had changed and hired a DJ instead.

Neither Adam nor I told the girls about the changes—I figured that in the excitement of the day, the menu and the music wouldn’t matter. But I didn’t want to wait to tell the girls about their cars—the cars that wouldn’t be coming.

Adam didn’t want to say a word; I was sure that he was still trying to figure out a way to get the twins the cars that we’d promised. But we had to build our savings; we had to make sure that we never ended up again in the place where we’d found ourselves with Shay-Shaunté.

The twins were going to have their party; everything else, they would just have to understand.

So, the night before the big day, we sat Alexa and Alana down after dinner, and Adam didn’t waste any time. “The party is going to be wonderful celebration. But … we’re gonna have to wait on those cars for a couple of weeks.”

It went down exactly the way I knew it would.

Alana said, “That’s okay, Daddy. The party is gonna be terrific all by itself.” And she hugged him.

Alexa fell out on the floor and asked, “What are we gonna tell our friends?”

But after minutes of Adam promising that he was going to do all that he could do, Alexa finally got up and did the right thing. She hugged her father, told him it was okay, then sulked to her bedroom.

That was last night … and all was forgotten and forgiven because now the twins were in the center of the pink and purple haze of the decorated restaurant.

“Oh, Mom,” Alexa breathed as she stood in between the tables that would hold the sixty dinner guests. “This is ridiculous!”

I laughed. “I take it that you like.”

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous,” Alana added as she ran her hand over the pink tablecloth on one table and then the purple one on another.

“Hey, sweethearts!”

“Daddy,” the twins cried as they ran to Adam when he entered from the long hallway.

I stood back as the girls covered their father with hugs and kisses. My smile remained, but it had certainly dimmed.

Adam had left the house about two hours ago, under the pretense of working with the restaurant manager to complete the decorations. I didn’t really have a reason not to believe him—it was just the thoughts that stayed in my head, that made me always doubt him.

“So, you like everything,” Adam said as he moved toward me. “Hey,” he said and gave me the perfunctory hug that I’d become used to.

“Daddy, this is wonderful!”

Adam grinned; I knew that had special meaning coming from Alexa.

He said, “I saved some of the balloons for the after-party. Y’all wanna see downstairs?”

“Yeah!” they cheered.

Adam led them away and I adjusted the centerpieces, then sauntered to the bar for a glass of wine.

As I sipped on the Chardonnay, I thought about all that this day was supposed to be. Nothing but happiness—our daughters were sixteen.

“Hey, Mom!”

I took a final swallow from my glass, then faced Ethan, who came up behind me with Tamica at his side. I kissed my friend and thanked her for bringing my son, right as the twins rushed into the room. The girls were jabbering with excitement about the room downstairs. But as they chatted, my eyes searched.

There was no sign of Adam.

I ordered another glass of wine.

The restaurant swelled with chatter and laughter as guests arrived and congratulated my daughters. I directed the waiters to serve the hors d’oeuvres.

Still, I searched for Adam; still I couldn’t find him.

The twins buzzed around, meeting and greeting, accepting their gifts graciously and excitedly.

Finally, Adam jogged up the steps that led to the room where the twins would be having their after-party … had he been down there the whole time?

But I didn’t have a chance to ask him because my family busted into the restaurant at the same time.

Wearing a spandex dress that just had to hurt, my mother asked, “How much y’all paid for this?” as loudly as she could the moment she walked in.

I hugged my mother, basically to stifle her. But she went on and on about too much money and spoiled kids.

“It is fancy, though,” Cashmere said.

“Yo’, sis,” Twin began, “is it okay if I smoke?”

Adam answered for me; told him no (especially since we had no idea what he’d be smoking) and then led my sorry family to the head table.

But just as Brooklyn and Cash came in and Adam greeted them, his cell phone vibrated. Adam glanced down, frowned, then turned away from me.

I wanted to follow him, but one of us had to stay with the girls. My eyes remained on him, though, as he pushed himself into the far corner of the room. His fingers were moving feverishly against his phone’s keyboard, texting, then stopping, then, texting some more.

“So,” Brooklyn said, forcing my eyes from Adam. “Just wanna warn you, we gave the girls a check for a thousand dollars.”